A warm, heavy wind whips Arthur's cloak up and back, snapping it against Hengroen's flanks as they ride slowly down a path some distance from the main road. A storm is gathering quickly overhead, casting a pale blue light over the tree-filled landscape. They're a couple of leagues from Camelot still, but Arthur knows Hengroen spooks easily in storms. The forest around them should help shield them from it a little, at least.
He’d sent the knights on ahead to the citadel with news of their victory. They’d been anxious to beat the torrential rain that was sure to catch Merlin and Arthur out in the open and Arthur hadn’t seen reason to slow their return.
Merlin is asleep in the saddle before him, leaning heavily back against Arthur’s chest. He'd been so drained after fighting the swarm of wyverns that he hadn't even mumbled a word of protest as Arthur maneuvered him onto Hengroen's back and climbed up behind him. His arms wrapped tightly around Merlin's waist, he'd pulled Merlin to him, pressed Merlin's head back to his shoulder.
Arthur's concern eases a bit as Merlin groans, his hips beginning to rock up and back on the saddle, arse pressing hard to Arthur's groin on every back-stroke.
Merlin’s face turns, burying in against Arthur’s neck, lips moving just under Arthur’s ear. “Arthur,” he whispers sleepily, and Arthur has to close his eyes and grit his teeth.
He holds perfectly still except for the hand that flies to Merlin’s hip, pushing him forward and holding him there. He cannot stop the blood that rushes to his cock. His body’s been days without Merlin’s touch, without that beautiful, full mouth on his own, but Merlin would never be so free with himself were he awake.
“Merlin,” he says, his voice croaking with desire, then tries again, this time clearing his throat and leaning back so Merlin’s body jerks to keep balance. “Merlin, wake up.”
“Hm?” he mumbles, shifting dangerously on the saddle. Arthur tightens his hold and pulls Merlin back to him, groaning at the contact but unwilling to let Merlin fall.
“Careful,” he warns, turning his face a little so he’s sure Merlin will hear him. “You were dreaming and the storm’s on the verge of breaking.”
Merlin inhales deeply and turns his head, smiling and arching against Arthur’s chest. “Mmm, I was having the most amazing dream.” Pressing back against Arthur’s arousal, he quietly asks, “How many days has it been?”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
Riding double on Hengroen makes them do it! (nc17) Part 1/3
Date: 2011-03-04 07:20 pm (UTC)[Part 1/3]
Ahorse
A warm, heavy wind whips Arthur's cloak up and back, snapping it against Hengroen's flanks as they ride slowly down a path some distance from the main road. A storm is gathering quickly overhead, casting a pale blue light over the tree-filled landscape. They're a couple of leagues from Camelot still, but Arthur knows Hengroen spooks easily in storms. The forest around them should help shield them from it a little, at least.
He’d sent the knights on ahead to the citadel with news of their victory. They’d been anxious to beat the torrential rain that was sure to catch Merlin and Arthur out in the open and Arthur hadn’t seen reason to slow their return.
Merlin is asleep in the saddle before him, leaning heavily back against Arthur’s chest. He'd been so drained after fighting the swarm of wyverns that he hadn't even mumbled a word of protest as Arthur maneuvered him onto Hengroen's back and climbed up behind him. His arms wrapped tightly around Merlin's waist, he'd pulled Merlin to him, pressed Merlin's head back to his shoulder.
Arthur's concern eases a bit as Merlin groans, his hips beginning to rock up and back on the saddle, arse pressing hard to Arthur's groin on every back-stroke.
Merlin’s face turns, burying in against Arthur’s neck, lips moving just under Arthur’s ear. “Arthur,” he whispers sleepily, and Arthur has to close his eyes and grit his teeth.
He holds perfectly still except for the hand that flies to Merlin’s hip, pushing him forward and holding him there. He cannot stop the blood that rushes to his cock. His body’s been days without Merlin’s touch, without that beautiful, full mouth on his own, but Merlin would never be so free with himself were he awake.
“Merlin,” he says, his voice croaking with desire, then tries again, this time clearing his throat and leaning back so Merlin’s body jerks to keep balance. “Merlin, wake up.”
“Hm?” he mumbles, shifting dangerously on the saddle. Arthur tightens his hold and pulls Merlin back to him, groaning at the contact but unwilling to let Merlin fall.
“Careful,” he warns, turning his face a little so he’s sure Merlin will hear him. “You were dreaming and the storm’s on the verge of breaking.”
Merlin inhales deeply and turns his head, smiling and arching against Arthur’s chest. “Mmm, I was having the most amazing dream.” Pressing back against Arthur’s arousal, he quietly asks, “How many days has it been?”